Everybody Leaves
by ShaViva
Summary: When Hannah Burley came into Booth's life it spelled the end of something special. Can Booth and Bones still end up together in the end? This is a rewrite of 'The Mastadon in the Room' and 'The Couple in the Cave'  BEWARE - spoilers inside!  B&B One shot


**Everybody Leaves**

Author: ShaViva

Rating: T+

Content Warning: Some minor violence and fluffiness is all.

Season: 6

Summary: When Hannah Burley came into Booth's life it spelled the end of something precious and special. Is it possible for Booth and Brennan to return from that? This is not so much an episode tag as it is a rewrite of the beginning of season 6. BEWARE, season 6 spoilers inside. One Shot!

Classifications: Angst/Friendship

Pairings: Booth/Hannah; Booth/Brennan

Spoilers for: HUGE and I mean absolutely GINORMOUS spoilers for S06E01 'The Mastodon in the Room' and S06E02 'The Couple in the Cave'. If you haven't seen them and you want to, don't read this because I will totally spoil it for you.

Acknowledgements: BFO transcripts for The Beginning in the End. Online translation website for the Indonesian.

Disclaimer: The Bones characters, storylines, etc aren't mine. I am unfortunately not associated in any way with the creators, owners, or producers of Bones or any of its media franchises. If I was I wouldn't be torturing everyone with Booth making kissy faces with Hannah all the time while Brennan looks on! All publicly recognizable characters, settings, equipment, etc are the property of whoever owns them. The original characters and plot and anything else I made up are the property of me, the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

Copyright (c) 2010 ShaViva

**Authors Note:**

After my one-shot, "What You Expect", a few people asked me to write another chapter to 'fix' things. I had a go but this was all I could come up with – as you will see it is totally AU! It's also not a follow-on from What You Expect, hence making it a story by itself.

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* * *

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Part One: Brennan

_

* * *

_

The Airport, Washington D.C.

She didn't want to let go. After Booth declared again their intention to meet in a year's time her entire world condensed down to the clasping of two hands. His letting go while hers clung tight.

But let go she must ... and she _did_ ... something she regretted the instance it was done. But there was no going back and so she must go forward.

Because if life had taught her one thing it was that everybody leaves eventually ... including her.

* * *

_Kakwari Province ... 7 months later_

"If I were you, I'd swallow that engagement ring, right now," Brennan told Daisy, her eyes on the three armed guerrillas approaching. The jeep wasn't working and unlike their assailant's, she and Daisy _weren't_ armed.

Brennan's mind was racing ... ordinarily she would have rated herself as capable of defeating three opponents, but these were heavily armed and there was Daisy to consider as well. She closed her eyes for a moment, her need to make a decision on the best course of action made more difficult by the fact that there were a number of scenarios to consider, each with a different likely outcome. If Booth were there he'd tell Brennan to cooperate, to play along until a more certain option presented itself.

"Langkah menjauh dari kendaraan," the one with the shotgun ordered as the three cleared the trees.

"He wants us to move away from the Jeep," Brennan told Daisy in a low tone. "We should do what they want."

Nodding, Daisy followed Brennan's lead, the two women taking a few backward steps, their hands held out in the standard 'we mean no harm' gesture.

"Follow my lead," Brennan ordered grimly.

"Mengapa kau di sini?" the leader demanded. The other two men ranged out until Brennan and Daisy were surrounded.

"What did he say?" Daisy whispered.

"I said, what are you doing here?" the man repeated in thickly accented English. He raised the shotgun, pointing it straight at Daisy's head. That message didn't need translating – answer now or someone dies.

"We're researchers," Brennan explained earnestly. "Part of the Maluku anthropological team. We were on our way to the dig site."

"You dig up the treasures of our country and leave nothing!" the man spat out, angry.

"Not treasures," Brennan said quickly. "Remains – of early man. We're trying to shed light on the interspecies similarities of human evolution. Your country might hold the key to explaining that."

"_Graves - not remains_," the leader corrected, visibly furious now. Gesturing behind him he motioned forcefully, his two companions leaping into action.

Daisy screamed when one of them grabbed her, pulling her arms behind her back.

"Wait! You don't have to do this," Brennan protested, all of her attention on the leader rather than on the man who'd grabbed her too. "I'm a successful author, I can compensate you for your troubles."

"She is," Daisy insisted, her voice high with nerves. "_Really_ successful!"

The leader sneered at Brennan, slapping her across the face hard enough to have her head slamming into the man who held her. "You desecrate our land and think you can just buy us off. No - your kind will leave and never come back!"

"You don't need both of us!" Brennan pulled forward sharply, dislodging her captor. Eyes wide and guileless she approached the leader, going for submissive and respectful. "Please ... let my colleague go. She can tell the others to go ... tell them how serious you are ... that they should respect your wishes. They'll listen to her, I swear."

The leader looked at Brennan suspiciously for a few moments and then made a decision. Nodding his head at Daisy's captor, he gave the unspoken order and the other woman was released.

"No!" Daisy protested. "Doctor Brennan, no! Oh God, this isn't happening," she muttered, taking a few steps forward and then pacing away. "This isn't happening. What should I do? _Think_ Daisy."

"Daisy ... _go_," Brennan ordered as the leader grabbed her arm and dragged her away. "Recevez l'aide. Dites-leur ce qui est arrive!" she yelled out, praying that she remembered the other woman's file accurately and was right that Daisy spoke French and would understand that she wanted her to get help.

"I will Doctor Brennan!" Daisy yelled.

"What did you tell her?" the leader pulled her around, ranting in her face.

"Nothing," Brennan said defiantly, trying to draw attention away from Daisy. "_Run,_" she thought urgently. "_Daisy – run_."

The leader slammed the butt of his shotgun into her stomach, taking away her breath. Gasping, Brennan tried to straighten, looking up just in time to see the gun butt approaching.

The blow struck hard, the world dark before she hit the ground.

* * *

Brennan's eyes snapped open again and she looked around, momentarily confused. She and Daisy were at camp, the jeep engine exposed in front of her. The three armed guerrillas approached, guns held loosely in front of them. Had she spaced out for a moment – run the 'play along' scenario forward to the most logical conclusion? If so, it hadn't gone well ... which meant she had to come up with a different approach.

"Those young men are Allafu. An Allafu man's worth is measured by how many daughters he has, not sons, which indicates that they venerate women," Temperance told Daisy. "We have to show them that we're women," she decided, already taking off her hat and mussing up her hair.

It was a risky plan, more so than playing along had been, but somehow the bizarreness of Daisy Wicks in purple underwear with the word Monday stitched across the bottom got them the desired result. Brennan fought hard and dirty, enough that a few minutes later three young guerrillas were unconscious on the ground and she and Daisy were hurrying to fix the jeep.

When the satellite phone she carried – for emergencies only – rang, her heart lurched, her first thought was Booth.

Something had happened. She's been dreading bad news ever since they'd parted ways and she'd been unable to look out for him herself.

Instead Caroline Julian was calling ... Doctor Saroyan needed her. The relief was enough that Brennan agreed to come back, even though it went against her reasons for leaving in the first place.

"Daisy, we have to get home," she announced.

* * *

_Washington D.C. ... still 7 months later_

Everything moved fast after that ... she bought out the rest of her contract; Daisy's too, thanking whatever deity was listening for the power of the greenback. Before she was ready she found herself at the reflecting pool.

It hadn't been a year ... she hadn't even stopped to change her clothes ... (something she'd regret later into the conversation) but somehow Booth was there, dressed just as he'd been when they'd parted. How had he managed it – getting out of his obligation to the army? Surely the situation with Doctor Saroyan wasn't severe enough to override the original reasons he'd been needed in Afghanistan.

They were confusing impressions her mind couldn't seem to grasp, but none of that mattered when they met. Hugging him was like coming home, letting him go as difficult as it had been seven months before.

Her mind was awash with questions and impressions, about herself and him. Those moments of reconnection were like a revelation for her. Everything inside leapt and she felt alive like she hadn't in seven months – longer if she were honest. What had seemed complicated was now simple ... he hadn't said it but she knew he'd _loved_ her. And she loved him. Maybe she hadn't been able to convince herself that it was something that lasted as long as he'd said but had he actually asked her to?

How had she gotten everything so _wrong_?

And then Booth was asking her if she'd met anyone and she was taking delight in being able to tell him that she hadn't. She'd been true ... to him ... to herself. Subconsciously she'd known her heart because opportunity had been there – it was her conscious mind that always got in the way and had her saying and doing things that were expected but not necessarily the entirety of what she believed.

"How about you?"

She asked him the question with hope in her heart, because it was Booth and he was a constant she could count on. But instead of a negative response Booth pulled out his phone and showed her a picture.

"_He'd taken his cell to Afghanistan?" _part of her queried, stupefied by the practical details. The rest of her was frozen, unable to react outwardly.

It was the worst nightmare of anyone who denied themselves the chance at love when deep down they did actually feel the same. That the other would give up on them and meet someone so much _more_ that they were. Someone easier, less complicated ... someone who fit.

Hannah Burley was that nightmare for Brennan.

Attractive in a supermodel kind of way – obviously brave and determined enough to be a war correspondent in a man's world. And God, Booth had arrested her too! Could the fates really be so cruel as to introduce another woman into Booth's life as _she'd_ been re-introduced so many years ago. The uniqueness of that situation had been Brennan's – it was _special_ and it hurt that someone else had taken it from her, like Hannah had taken a small part of her history too.

"Is it serious between you?" Brennan asked, cold inside because she already knew the answer.

"Serious as a heart attack," Booth replied matter-of-factly.

A _heart_ attack? With sudden clarity she realised that he hadn't asked about her love life because he'd wanted to know – he's asked because he wanted to tell her about _his_! Part of her wanted to yell at him, to demand answers to the things she understood even less now than she had before they'd parted at the airport.

"_Who goes to a warzone in Afghanistan and comes back in love, Booth? Who __does__ that?_" He did - although she could hardly credit the situation as real.

"_How long did it take Booth, for you to fall out of love with me? A week? A month?_" Obviously it had been less than a year ... and a lifetime less than the thirty, forty or fifty years he'd spoken of so feelingly.

"I find myself looking forward to seeing everyone," Brennan said instead, already standing, keen to change the subject before she could reveal her misery.

* * *

And so it had gone, one blow after another.

Her lab at the Jeffersonian – gone.

Her intern program – also gone.

Even Daisy hadn't stuck with her once they'd returned to U.S. soil. Brennan would have appreciated the familiarity of someone who knew what she'd been through the past seven months, instead of feeling like everything had been turned on its head.

Worst than anything was Doctor Saroyan, so angry and blaming Brennan for all of it. It _had_ been Temperance's decision to take a position on the Maluku Island project but she'd had no control over what everyone else did! It was unfair for Camille to blame her for everything falling apart.

No one understood ... how could she have stayed as soon as it became clear that Booth would have to go?

Instead of seven months it felt like she'd been gone seven years. Everything was just too different. It was a relief to concentrate on the work, on the process she could count on. She knew who she was when she was studying remains, trying to find the _right_ story for the victim.

There were mysteries with this victim just as there had been with others in the past, but the biggest mystery for Brennan was how the obvious had been missed for three months.

Brennan knew she was good, great even, at what she did. She knew Hodgins and Angela and Booth and whichever intern she had on staff at the time was also good. But none of them were indispensible, including her. Surely Cam had been able to find _someone_ who knew enough to see what it had only taken a few minutes for them to see. The remains belonged to a child of Asian descent, much older than two. They couldn't possibly be Logan Bartlett. It was so easy a solution that the return of the entire team from around the globe was beyond overkill. And the threat to Doctor Saroyan's job – the reason they'd all dropped what they were doing – also disappeared with barely a whimper. Altogether it was just another reason for her confusion.

Just like when she'd been studying the remains, she felt that life was hiding something from her – that her eyes were seeing something that her brain refused to process. The mastodon in the lab was a metaphor just as Booth had suggested – something so huge it was really hard to ignore it. At the heart of it that mastodon was Hannah, and Brennan wasn't sure how she'd work around that because for sure she couldn't ignore it.

* * *

_Washington D.C. ... 1 month later_

Falling into the routine was the only thing familiar about being home. Brennan put a smile on, determinedly clinging to her previously genuine cluelessness because to do otherwise would open the door to conversation and admissions she wasn't ready for.

She felt like everyone had left her behind, Booth most of all. That was never made more clear to her than when Hannah turned up unexpectedly, fixing to stay in Washington. Seeing Booth so happy, hearing him so openly declare love for another woman when it had taken him _five years _to only allude to it with Brennan ... it pained her and it confused her.

Nothing was as she expected but at the same time it was exactly how she'd always thought her life would go. Those around her happy and engaged in relationships she didn't understand and didn't believe in while she lived alone, sure that her way was best while something inside wept for everything she didn't have.

Even the reactions of the rest of the team jarred. They were in the middle of another case – two hikers found dead in a cave together – but all anyone could talk about was Hannah. Angela, Hodgins, Camille – they all asked her if she was okay about Booth and his new love, but they were all too interested in Hannah, too happy for Booth.

As soon as she thought it Temperance felt bad for judging everyone so harshly. They were _her_ team ... Brennan clung to that when it felt like everything was slipping away from her.

* * *

"How are things really going sweetie?" Angela tracked her down early one morning in her office.

"They're fine Angela," Brennan insisted.

"_No_, they're not," Angela said stubbornly. "Don't try and tell me you aren't bothered by what's going on with Booth right now."

"I ...," Temperance hesitated. "All right. There is a part of me that doesn't understand this Angela."

"What don't you understand?" Angela asked.

"Booth!" Brennan exclaimed.

"You'll have to do better than that honey," Angela said with a half laugh. "Give me an example."

"Okay, last night, at dinner," Brennan began. "Hannah told the story of how she and Booth met. He saved her life Angela. When she said she was very enthusiastic about showing her appreciation I deduced that she meant she'd thanked him sexually. Instead of Booth becoming uncomfortable or embarrassed he _agreed_ with everything she said. In the past Booth was quite insistent that we not talk about sex."

"Oh honey," Angela reached over and squeezed her hand. "Do you remember what I said about the two of you being a couple, just one that didn't have sex?"

"Of course," Brennan replied. "It was only two days ago Angela and my memory is usually able to retain information for much longer than that."

"Right" Angela kept her amusement in check as she continued. "Booth and Hannah _are_ having sex sweetie."

"Are you suggesting Booth would have been more comfortable discussing the subject in the past if _we'd _been having sex?" Brennan asked.

"It's always difficult talking about something you want that you can't have," Angela pointed out gently.

"Is that why he's so open about declaring that he loves Hannah?" Brennan asked in a small voice, not looking at her friend.

"That, and I think he wants everyone to know they don't have to tiptoe around him anymore," Angela sighed. "It was difficult for Booth after you rejected him. He's happy now and I suppose he wants to share that."

"_He's happy now that he's fallen out of love with me_," Brennan thought sadly. Gathering all the emotions in she forced a smile for her friend. "Yes, well I hope he returns to normal soon," she said briskly. "I find this new Booth even harder to understand than the old one."

"That's it?" Angela sounded disappointed.

"What else would there be?" Brennan was deliberately obtuse.

"Even though you didn't want a relationship with Booth I thought some part of you would be upset now that the possibility isn't there anymore," Angela admitted.

"I don't think the possibility ever really existed," Brennan turned away, focussing on her computer. "I'm sorry Angela, I really need to review Clark's notes on the evidence. We're missing something ."

Angela stood, looking at Brennan for a moment. "I was right," she said sadly. "You _are _going to die loveless and alone."

Brennan said nothing, although inside a part of her wept over the harsh judgement from her friend. Angela waited another moment for some kind of reaction before silently leaving her friend alone.

* * *

It got worse. They solved the case, of course, and arrested a good man who'd strayed too far over the line of justice and become a bad man.

Brennan had always looked forward to their end of case drink, when they sat together and reflected on what they'd learned. This time what they'd learned seemed only to widen the gap between them.

"If we don't look out for ourselves, nothing else matters," Brennan insisted, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice.

"You don't really believe that," Booth countered.

But she _did_ – and the way he'd behaved since he'd returned had only convinced her that she was right. Love was a poor reason for doing something because either love was fickle or other emotions were too easily mistaken for love.

"_Did you ever really love me at all?"_

The words burned in Brennan's head and she feared the day when they would eat away her resolve and her pride and come spewing from her mouth.

"You're feeling a rush of chemicals," she insisted. "Those feelings are wonderful. I've ... felt them ...," she stopped, "_for you_," her mind screamed. Booth was so perceptive ... why could he not see the truth of that? "I won't rely on the transient nature of chemicals for my happiness," she concluded. "_I won't rely on you_," she thought.

Before Booth could respond Hannah arrived – beautiful, sexy, captivating enough that Brennan ceased to exist in Booth's world. It was an untimely end to a tradition that had lasted through five years of solved cases. Booth left with Hannah and Brennan was left with his half empty glass ... and a heart that felt so devoid of anything she wondered how she would ever feel whole again.

She'd been right. Eventually everybody leaves ... even the people that deep down you hoped would be different.

* * *

**Part Two: Booth**

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* * *

**

_The Airport, Washington D.C._

It had been hard not to grab her and hug the hell out of her. Holding her hand was so small in comparison to what he'd needed to convey his emotions that Booth had hardly noticed when he'd let go. There was so much he'd wanted to say ... but nothing he could, at least not yet. He had hopes that time and distance would change that.

_

* * *

_

Quryah, Helman Province ... 7 months later

He'd saved the boy. The litany of relief running through his head left him feeling a little weak. And the woman's words – that her husband was off fighting someone else's war when he should be home with his son cut close. Because he'd known as soon as he got to Afghanistan that he should be home, with Parker.

When the satellite phone rang he answered it, still distracted. "Booth."

"Agent Booth, oh thank God," a familiar voice exclaimed.

"Daisy?" Booth asked uncertainly, frowning.

"Oh, sorry. I should have said who it was first, shouldn't I?" she said hurriedly. "I'm just so overwrought, because of the situation you know. I didn't even stop to think that it would be common courtesy to tell you it was Daisy Wick calling."

"Daisy," Booth cut through her prattling, his tone impatient. "What situation?"

"Oh dear," Daisy almost moaned. "I feel so responsible you know, because it was her idea for them to let me go. And -,"

"Daisy, I swear if you don't tell me what's going on right now I'm going to find a way to get over there and wring it out of you!" Booth exclaimed.

"It's Doctor Brennan," Daisy admitted in a rush. "She's been kidnapped by Indonesian guerrillas."

"_What_?" Booth felt the fear sweeping over him. "When? Where?"

"Two days ago, from our campsite in the Kakwari Province," Daisy explained. "We couldn't get the jeep going and then three men with guns came out of the bushes and confronted us. Doctor Brennan tried to talk them around but they just got angry and said they wanted all our kind to leave their country. Doctor Brennan suggested they let me go so I could give the authorities their message, which of course I did." She took an audibly shuddering breath. "They hit her Agent Booth ... and then they dragged her away. It took me a day to get to somewhere I could ring for help and the rest of the time to track down a number for you. You have to help her Agent Booth."

"I'll get there as soon as I can," Booth promised, disconnecting the call abruptly. He had no idea how, but Bones was in trouble – she needed him to save her and there was no way he wasn't going to be there for her.

* * *

Calls to anyone he could think of, including Caroline Julian, eventually netted him the desired result. He was being discharged five months early – honourably, on the grounds of a personal emergency. Booth had no idea how Caroline had made that one stick and he wasn't going to ask. The important thing was that he was free to board one of the series of planes he'd need to make the journey from Afghanistan to the Maluku Islands.

He went in alone ... covert ... like the sniper he'd been so many years before. It was easy to find Bones – too easy largely because the group of guerrillas who'd captured her were steeped in their own youthful arrogance.

There were six of them – the three Daisy had mentioned and three others who were carbon copies of each other. Perched on a distant hill, Booth watched them for a day before he had their routine down pat. Negotiating wasn't an option – he'd checked in with the Maluku anthropology project coordinator when he'd arrived. All the man could tell him was that they'd received no word of Doctor Brennan's location or condition and that the local police were 'looking into it'. As far as he could tell that was bullshit. The police weren't looking into anything – and for good reason. The political situation was tense and no one wanted to rock the boat.

Booth was going to rock the boat of those who'd dared to mess with Bones, _big_.

It took too many hours of observation for him to catch his first site of Bones and that only by chance. The guerrillas had a small settlement, if you could call it that, a collection of ramshackle huts, one of which always had a guard in front of it. That was where they were keeping her ... during one change of guard he was focussed in enough to catch sight of her stretched out on a low pallet.

She wasn't moving and from the angry words floating out on the breeze, the bad guys were less than impressed with that.

There was no time for finesse, no time to come up with a smart plan to trick them into giving Bones up. He was surprised they'd bothered to look after her at all and could only conclude it was because they wanted to ransom Bones but couldn't do it until they could make it look like she was okay.

"_You better be okay baby_," he thought grimly.

Six guys ... one sniper ... the math was obvious. He waited until first light, when all six of his targets were moving about, the guards tired after a night on watch, their replacements groggy from sleep.

Six bullets ... six bodies hitting the deck.

Booth didn't wait – shouldering his riffle he ran, down the hill, through the trees, his boots slamming into the dirt. He was at the hut door moments later, ripping it open and letting daylight in on a scene his heart would never forget.

Bones ... pale and dirty, her white tank top a dull brown that only highlighted the darker spots of dried blood down the front of it. Her breathing was shallow, her expression tormented. She was dreaming and from the looks of it, of nothing pleasant.

"_Temperance_," her name ushered from his lips like a prayer as he dropped to his knees beside her. His hand was shaking as he used it to smooth back her hair, revealing the dark bruise that covered half her forehead, broken skin scabbing over. "Come on baby, wake up for me," he urged, to no effect.

Checking her quickly for other injuries and finding none, Booth gathered her into his arms, striding from the camp without a backward glance, six dead men the only witnesses to his passing.

* * *

He didn't rest, walking through the jungle with Bones in his arms. It was all about distance – every time he looked down at Bones, too quiet, too pale, he just as quickly looked away, his pace quickening. For now his only job was to get her to someone who could help and he was entirely focussed on that alone.

His legs were shaking and his arms felt like lead when he arrived at the project's main camp a day later.

Daisy ran out to meet him. "Doctor Brennan!" she almost squealed, raising the attention of everyone.

They rushed to take Bones from his arms – he was exhausted enough that he let them, although he refused to be separated from her while the project doctor examined her.

"We need to get her to proper medical facilities immediately," he said grimly.

Booth held out a hand. "Phone," he ground out. Daisy scrambled, grabbing the first one offered and handing it to Booth.

He dialled a familiar number and waited for the connection. "Cam, it's Booth," he said urgently. "I need a favour. Call Hodgins – see if there's any way he can get a helicopter or something out to the Maluku Islands."

"Seeley, where are you?" Cam asked, concerned.

"Maluku, with Bones," Booth replied. "She needs a proper hospital Cam. If we don't get her to one soon she could ...," he trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.

"Give me a number I can reach you at," Cam said briskly.

Taking that as Cam's commitment to arrange something Booth handed the phone to Daisy. "She needs the phone number here," he explained.

Daisy quickly took the phone and rattled off a string of numbers, nodding at whatever Cam said in return. "They'll be here as soon as they can," Daisy said.

Booth nodded, his attention returning to Bones. Without a word he dropped down to sit at her side. All he could do now was wait.

* * *

From personal experience Booth knew that dreams could reveal much about the dreamer. When he'd been trapped inside his own mind like Bones was, his dreams had taken the veil off of his feelings, illuminating the life he wanted to lead. He hadn't wanted to leave that dream world ... had struggled at first to understand that it wasn't real.

Bones dreamt too – her eyes moving rapidly beneath her eyelids, face twisting with various emotions. That fuelled the hope Booth was clinging to. Her mind was active ... she just wasn't waking up.

As he sat beside her bed in the tiny hut, he prayed with everything in him that she would open her eyes.

"Come on Bones, you can do it," he said, reaching out and taking her hand.

She frowned, shifting and moaning as though trying to get away from something unpleasant. "Booth," she murmured, her voice sounding hoarse.

Booth grabbed the water bottle Daisy had given him and carefully trickled moisture into Bones' mouth, smiling when she swallowed instinctively.

"Bones," he smoothed back her hair, touched her cheek.

"Booth, don't go," Bones begged.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere Baby," he promised, voice rough.

She grimaced, shifted again and settled, dropping back into a quieter sleep.

It lasted for an hour or so before she started writhing again, her face shifting into pain. At first Booth thought it was physical pain, until her words stopped him cold.

"He's moved on Angela," she sobbed as though the heart she professed not to have was breaking. "_Not breaking – crushed,_" he reminded himself. "It's too late," Bones cried.

"Bones," Booth shifted closer, hoping his presence would reassure her. He didn't want to just assume she was dreaming about him, one because clearly it wasn't making her happy, and two because her words were fuel for the hope he still had that they could bridge the gap between them. He didn't need false hope.

"How is she?"

Booth turned to see Daisy Wick standing uncertainly in the doorway.

"I don't know," Booth admitted, hating that he couldn't sound more confident.

"_Booth_," Bones moaned, drawing his attention back to her, her sadness ripping at his heart.

"She mentions you all the time," Daisy offered, moving closer, her eyes on her mentor. "The day she was kidnapped she told me she was only afraid of snakes when you were around to be jumped on."

Booth laughed. "Yeah – probably right before she smacked the crap out of one," he joked.

"Not quite," Daisy smiled but it fell away quickly. "I feel bad," she admitted. "Doctor Brennan wouldn't be in this condition if she hadn't pushed for them to let me go. Maybe if I'd stayed with her I could have prevented this."

"You know Bones," Booth said simply. "She knows her own mind and pity anyone who gets in her way." As he said it he realised anew how much he'd missed her. Training Afghanis had kept him busy but a part of him had been aware as each day passed that it was another one where he hadn't spoken to Bones. He understood why – her satellite phone had been for emergencies just as his had. Now that he was there he could _see _just how isolated the Maluku Islands were, especially given it was hindering getting Bones the help she needed. He liked to think that Bones would have contacted him if she could have – that seven months of silence had been no more her choice than it was his.

"Doctor Hodgins rang," Daisy got to her reason for interrupting his silent vigile. "The Royal Flying Doctor Service are on their way from Darwin - they should be here in about three hours."

"Thanks Daisy," Booth went back to holding Bones' hand, his eyes intent. If will alone would wake her up then she'd be opening her eyes any minute now.

"I'll leave you to it," Daisy said. "Sing out if you need anything."

"_Just for Bones to wake up_," Booth thought. That's all he needed. That and the chance to tell her it wasn't too late would about make his life complete.

* * *

Hodgins was true to his word ... four hours after Cam's call the RFDS arrived and another four hours after that they were back in Darwin. At the hospital Booth was reduced to pacing outside in the waiting room while they examined Bones ... because he wasn't family.

"_Not family_," he muttered, completing the few steps needed to cross the room and turning back for a repeat pass. "_Who are they to decide what family is?_"

"Ah, members of the medical community for whom we all have the utmost respect."

"Cam?" Booth turned, hardly believing his eyes.

"You didn't think I'd let you do this alone, did you?" Cam smiled fondly.

"Thank you," Booth gathered Cam into a hug, his eyes gleaming a little. With Camille there suddenly everything seemed hopeful again.

"Hodgins and Angela are on their way too," Cam announced. She stepped back and regarded her long time friend, her expression serious. "She'll be okay Seeley."

"She better be," Booth ground out. Swallowing hard he turned away, trying to get himself under control.

"I'll go and see what I can find out," Cam put a hand to his back for a moment before giving him some space.

Booth was back to pacing before she returned – he watched her carefully, his eyes locked on her face. Was it good news or bad?

"Her prognosis is good," Cam began.

The relief was enormous, overwhelming enough that he had to sit down. Cam sat too, taking his hand in hers. "She has a severe concussion, mild dehydration and the early stages malnutrition," she explained gently. "All things they're already treating," she added reassuringly. "The fact that she hasn't woken up is causing some concern. They haven't found a cause with the standard battery of tests so they're doing more."

"So, she wakes up, she's okay?" Booth queried.

"Yes," Cam agreed. "You can go and sit with her – talk to her. Maybe if she hears something familiar it will draw her out of her coma."

Coma. The word slammed into his mind, draining away the relief he'd been feeling. It was such a foreboding word.

"Right," he nodded, looking around until Cam gently turned him in the right direction.

"Talk to her," Cam reiterated, giving him a little push.

* * *

"Cam said I should talk to you," Booth said. They'd given him a chair and an empty room, save for the woman at the centre of machines that told them everything they needed to know about her condition.

The woman centre to his wellbeing.

"Not that I wouldn't have talked to you anyway," Booth added hastily. "I've missed talking to you Bones. Missed you." He sighed. "You really need to wake up, before I drown everyone with my sappiness."

Bones shifted, a little crease appearing between her brows. Her pupils darted left and right under her eyelids. She was dreaming again.

"I know where you are right now isn't pleasant," Booth squeezed her hand. "But you have to understand that it isn't real, okay. I haven't moved on Bones. I know I told you I had to but most of that was just pride talking. It took me about a month in Afghanistan to realise that I'd set us both up for failure approaching you like that. I let Sweets manipulate me – I can't believe I'm admitting that – if," he stopped, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "_When_ I talk about that stuff next time, I'll do it the right way."

"The right way?" Angela moved into the room slowly, her eyes on her friend. "Oh God," her lips trembled. "She looks so ... frail."

"It's the machines," Booth stood, putting a hand on Angela's shoulder. "They make everyone look small."

Angela nodded, her attention still on Bones.

"Thank you for this," he nodded to the room, "and for coming."

"She's important to us too," Angela said simply.

"I know," Booth pulled another chair to the bedside and urged Angela to sit. Angela touched Brennan's hand first, sighing. "Don't worry sweetie," she said. "We'll be here waiting when you come out of this.

They let the silence build – conversational that is; the hum and beep of machines was a stark reminder of why they were there – until Angela spoke. "The right way?" she reminded him of what she'd walked in on.

"Yeah," Booth smiled. "You know – give her a little warning so I don't scare her half way around the world. Actually tell her that I love her instead of dancing around the words, tell her that I don't expect her to change herself to love me back. The easy stuff," he added, self deprecatingly.

"The important stuff," Angela corrected. She wasn't surprised at his openness even though it was out of character – when they'd pulled Hodgins from the dirt of an almost grave she'd found plenty of internal clarity herself. "Did you hear that honey?" she asked in a louder tone. "Agent Studly is lined up and ready to set your heart racing ... you just need to wake up now, okay?"

It seemed unbelievable later but Brennan's eyelids flickered and then opened abruptly, blue meeting brown.

She frowned. "Booth?" Clearly confused, she glanced around the room before returning to focus on him. "What are you doing here? Where's Hannah?"

"Who the hell is Hannah?" Booth exchanged a worried glance with Angela.

"What?" Brennan demanded. "_Hannah_. Your fiancé!"

* * *

**Part Three: Together**

* * *

"I don't have a fiancé," Booth decided that just dealing with Bones' statements one at a time was the logical approach.

"I'll go get the doctor," Angela murmured, touching his shoulder and then quickly leaving them alone.

"_Yes_, you do," Brennan insisted. "She's a war correspondent you arrested in a restricted area in Afghanistan and then fell in love with. She followed you back here."

"Firstly, here isn't Washington – it's Darwin," Booth said gently, "and secondly, I would _never_ get involved with anyone in the middle of a war zone!"

"See, I thought that too initially, but you were quite specific Booth," Brennan insisted. Glancing around the room again her confusion and worry was obvious. "Why am I in Darwin?"

"Well, at least those comments you made make sense now," Booth muttered. Taking her hands, he tugged lightly until she was looking at him, that crease between her brows still present. "You're in Darwin because you were kidnapped by Indonesian guerrillas. They hit you over the head hard enough to shake even your grip on reality. You made them let Daisy go first though."

"And she called you?" Bones said uncertainly. "This isn't at all how I remember those events Booth. In my version I defeated those three men."

"You defeated three armed guys without any weapons of your own?"

"I had a shovel," Brennan said defensively, "but yes, I see what you mean. When said like that it does sound unlikely."

"Just a little," Booth agreed kindly.

"If I didn't defeat them then how did I get away?" Brennan asked.

"You didn't," Booth looked down at where his hands held hers. "I tracked you down and got you out of there. Cam arranged for us to be flown here. She's out in the waiting room now, with Hodgins and Angela."

"You got me out of there?" Bones repeated slowly.

"Forget it," Booth shook his head. "You don't want to know."

"I'm sorry," Bones pressed her lips together, tears rising to the surface. She knew what he'd done and regretted what it added to the negative side of his balance sheet.

"I'm not," Booth said grimly. "I did what had to be done to get you out of there."

"So you were never in love, you never got engaged?" Brennan checked hesitantly.

"Not with anyone named Hannah, and no, I was never engaged," Booth confirmed.

"Oh," Brennan frowned, her eyes darting to his before she looked away.

"We need to talk about this," Booth declared, smiling when that had her looking at him again.

The doctors arrival saved her from having to reply. Booth left her to go and greet Hodgins and offer his thanks to the other man, only returning to Bones when the Doctor came out and gave her the all clear.

"You should be able to take your friend home within the week," the doctor said with a smile, coming out to the waiting room to speak to them all at once.

Booth paid little attention to the emotional reactions of the others, already on his way to talk to Bones again.

* * *

"It was just a dream," Bones said before he could get a single word in. "Medically speaking it's quite common for coma patients to suffer from vivid dream sequences that bear little connection to real life events."

"I know, I've been there," Booth reminded her. "Do you want to know what you said?"

"I said something?" Brennan asked in surprise.

"You did," Booth took her hand, ignoring the way she instinctively stiffened. Running a thumb over her knuckles he looked at her. "You begged me not to leave you. And you told Angela it was too late, that I'd moved on."

"If I were under duress I imagine I would have called out for help," Brennan explained. "And since I'm accustomed to you being the one to deliver that help it makes sense that it would be your name I'd call out."

"And does it make sense that I'd blow off my commission to come here?" Booth demanded.

"You left the army?" that one seemed to throw Bones.

"I had to," he ground out. "How do you think I got leave to come here? They don't exactly hand out passes just because you ask nicely."

"I assumed you had special dispensation because I'm your -," she stopped, looking up at him. Partner – she'd begun to say partner, even though they weren't exactly that anymore.

"Guys with wives having babies don't get to go home Bones," he told her gently. "Caroline pulled a lot of strings to get me out early."

"Oh," Brennan looked shocked. "I ... don't know what to say about that. Aside from thank you." She looked at him earnestly. "Thank you for saving my life Booth."

"I had no choice Temperance," the use of her first name sent Brennan's heart racing. "You have to know that without you I'd consider my life pretty much screwed. I'd get by, for Parker you know, but the rest of it would be over."

"Don't talk like that," Brennan protested. "We've already had this conversation Booth. You know my feelings on the subject."

"We've had a version of this conversation," Booth agreed, "but I'm doing a rewrite. And if you don't care about me then why did it hurt so much when you thought I'd moved on?" He held up hand when she went to deny it. "_Aa_, don't bother. I could see the pain on your face Bones."

"I don't believe in the same things you do," Brennan turned away, clasping her hands together to stop them from shaking. "I can't change Booth."

"I don't want you to," Booth denied.

"Yes you do!" Brennan cried out. "You _do _Booth. Every time we talk about the transient nature of what people label love your disappointment demands that I change my point of view. "

"You don't want to admit that you love me," Booth saw it clearly all of a sudden. Maybe he'd known before ... maybe he'd always known.

"Why is it that I have to put my beliefs into _your_ context Booth?" Brennan demanded angrily. "Why couldn't you have changed your perspective to meet _mine_?"

"Because ...," Booth floundered, realising that she was right. Instead of listening to her words, instead of measuring her actions, he'd focussed on the labels they each assigned to emotions. He shook his head, chuckling. "You're right," he said simply.

"I am?" Brennan seemed surprised at his easy capitulation.

"Yes," Booth smiled. "Let's try this a different way." He took her hands again, looking into her eyes. Bones swallowed nervously but she kept her attention focussed on him. "If I were in danger and you could see no other way out, would you give your life to save mine?"

"Yes," Bones didn't even have to think about it, her answer was instinctive. "You're a talented field officer, and a wonderful father Booth. I'm not saying that makes your life more valuable than mine but –"

"Bones," Booth interrupted. "Just answer the questions okay?"

"Okay," Bones replied, "but I fail to see the problem in providing additional information so that you can put my replies into context."

"I would die for you too Bones," Booth ignored her rhetoric.

"I know," Bones agreed. "You've proven your willingness to do so on more than one occasion."

"Right. Moving on. When you make a decision, what do you consider first?" Booth asked.

"I know it makes no sense but I find myself thinking about what your reaction would be," Brennan admitted. "When the Maluku Island project first came to prominence I was unwilling to make a decision without consulting you first."

"And you only agreed to take on the job after I confirmed that I'd be taking the Rangers job," Booth finished.

"The sequence of events made decision making very confusing," Brennan explained.

"You're first in my mind Bones," Booth said simply, his words causing that leaping feeling again. "You and Parker. I think of the two of you before myself ... because your happiness is more important than my own. Your happiness is _linked _to mine.."

"You can't be happy yourself unless you know I am," Brennan murmured, her eyes looking inwards.

"Exactly." Booth smiled fondly. "And finally, did you miss me the past seven months Bones?"

"Every day," Bones replied. "I found myself turning to tell you something and being genuinely surprised to find that you were not there. Scientifically I expected the effect to diminish over time but I was yet to reach that state when I was kidnapped."

"I missed you too," Booth returned. "I'd risk anything for you Bones. Will you do the same for me?"

Brennan's eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at his familiar visage. He was so hopeful, so honourable ... as real as her dream world had been unreal. He'd given up everything to save her life – and was laying himself on the line again. How could she continue to deny that she thought the risk finally worth taking?

"Yes," she said briskly.

"Yes?" Booth was momentarily speechless. Her answers to his questions had given him hope – if you believed that love was putting someone else ahead of your own desires, giving up your life if need be to save theirs, being happy because they were happy, needing them to be there because they were part of you, then Bones loved him. She'd just call it something else ... and that was okay.

"Yes I will take a risk on you Booth," Brennan clarified. "A risk on us. Even though I find myself feeling nervous and uncertain of what that entails, I'm willing to enter into a romantic relationship with you." She stopped, looking at him worriedly. "I can't promise you forever Booth," she said honestly. "I don't know what will happen next year, let along thirty years from now."

"I don't want you to promise me anything other than that you'll continue being Temperance Brennan," Booth insisted. "Because being with you, even for a day, is worth more than a lifetime with anyone else."

"I find myself strangely moved by your overtly sentimental declaration Booth," Brennan swiped at a tear that had escaped to run down one cheek.

"Don't worry Bones," Booth drew her into a hug. "You'll get used to it."

Putting a hand under her chin he drew her eyes to his. They looked at each other for timeless moments and then broke into simultaneous smiles. When he kissed her the intervening months disappeared and they were just Brennan and Booth – two people who were better together than they could ever be apart.

She'd been right ... everybody left. But if you were blessed enough to find someone like Seeley Booth, they came back too.

**The End**

**

* * *

**

Authors Note:

Without doubling up on some of my conclusions from the first episode tag I did, this really was the only way I could fix the first two episodes so it came out right - without unduly hurting anyone and explaining away all the weird behaviour everyone is exhibiting. Please, let me know what you thought. Thank you.

Additional note: An anonymous reviewer pointed out that the flight time between Darwin and Ambon was much less than the eight hours I originally mentioned. Yes, that's true, if you're flying in a commercial air liner, doing around 550 to 600 mph. I don't think even Hodgins could charter a 747 or get them to take off when he wants them too. Booth asked Cam to get him a helicopter and their top speed is around 220 mph which is where the eight hours to travel approximately 1700 miles came from, factoring in that the research camp site isn't at the airport so there is travel time there as well. I did rethink this though and decided Hodgins would have gone for the Royal Flying Doctor Service instead, because their Hawker 800XP2 aircraft is faster, at 440 mph, cutting the trip down to four hours each way. Not sure if the RFDS does international flights but lets just say the Jack made a donation sufficient enough to get them to respond for Brennan's case. (source: wikipedia, www dot flyingdoctor dot org dot au)


End file.
